In the Little Town of Bethlehem
by LadyWallace
Summary: Aziraphale has been tasked with the very important job of leading the Wise Men to the newborn Savior. However, things get complicated when he discovers Crowley among his charges. But when Crowley finds out the true nature of his mission, he might just join sides with Aziraphale. After all, there's some things even a demon won't resort to.


**This is 29Pieces Christmas request fic involving Crowley and Aziraphale taking part in the Nativity story (and of course it can't be that easy!) Hope you enjoy ^_^**

**I tried to keep the series of events from the biblical accounts as accurate as possible in this story though some things may still be a little out of sync.**

**Also, happy Christmas Eve! I hope you guys all have a lovely (and hopefully relaxing) holiday :)**

* * *

In the Little Town of Bethlehem

A Good Omens Fanfic

_Aziraphale has been tasked with the very important job of leading the Wise Men to the newborn Savior. However, things get complicated when he discovers Crowley among his charges. But when Crowley finds out the true nature of his mission, he might just join sides with Aziraphale. After all, there's some things even a demon won't resort to._

It was a clear night over Israel, and, well, desert nights were usually clear, but this one seemed particularly so. Aziraphale had made sure that was no accident.

Something had changed in the world, or was about to. It was sort of an all hands on deck situation, and Aziraphale was honored with the position of leading the three Wise Men from foreign reaches to the birth of the Savior.

There were Big Plans for Mary's child, everyone knew it. Or, at least those who knew anything about anything did. Gabriel had made it very clear that Aziraphale was not to screw this job up.

So currently, Aziraphale was manifesting himself with all his angelic light as a star to guide the men onward to their destination, keeping an eye on them the whole time.

It seemed to be going well, and he began to relax.

That was until he glanced down to check on the Wise Men again and saw that there were no longer three of them, but four.

"Oh, dear," he muttered to himself. "As far as I know, that wasn't supposed to happen."

He hemmed and hawed for a little while before he decided that it would be better to err on the side of caution and see exactly what was going on down there.

He left a replica of his light in the sky to continue leading the Wise Men, and descended, having the terrible feeling that trouble was afoot.

* * *

_Crowley was disgruntled_ to say the least. Of all the modes of transportation there were to be had in this quickly growing world, _camel_ was not exactly his idea of a good time. They were uncomfortable, they had a terrible gait if they did anything quicker than a walk, and they _spit._

To top it all off, he was in the company of three so-called "Wise Men" who were really just a bunch of scholars who liked the sound of their own voices. Crowley snorted at that. Kind of reminded him of someone else.

"This star, you see," one was explaining to Crowley as he pointed up at the abnormally large star in the sky. "Is an omen, telling of a newborn king! We've read the old prophecies and determined the time and now we are traveling to see history in the making."

"Fascinating," Crowley said, narrowing his eyes at the star. It made him itch slightly. Seemed angelic to him. All the more reason to stay away. But orders were orders. He was told to deliver these men to King Herod and he was going to do that. Gladly. And then get on with other things, far away from the angelic hot-spot Jerusalem and its surroundings seemed to be right now.

Because, really, what was so important about one baby? Just like the Tree in the Garden, he felt like he was missing a punch line somewhere.

"What-ho, travelers! Is there room for one more in your caravan?"

Crowley froze, disbelief washing over him as he recognized the voice and glanced over to see a little donkey trot up, and on its back an all-too-familiar face, accompanied by the slight ambient glow of his halo.

Crowley said an oath under his breath.

"Oh, why, of course, we are headed toward Jerusalem!" one of the wise men said.

Aziraphale smiled and fell into the convoy while Crowley ducked aside, pretending to get something out of his saddle bag.

"Quite a night to be out!" Aziraphale was chatting. "And my, what a star that is!"

"Why yes! We were just discussing it with our other companion," said a Wise Man. "A portent to the birth of a king! We came to see if the prophecies were indeed true."

"My, what a coincidence, that's why I'm here as well!" Aziraphale said, then finally turned to the dark figure slumped on his camel, trying to pull the hood of the robe he was wearing further over his face.

"And what are…oh. Oh dear."

Crowley gave up his efforts at disguise and simply glowered at the angel. They fell back behind the wise men letting them go on ahead, continuing their discussion.

"What on earth are you doing out here, Crowley?" Aziraphale demanded.

"Trust me, I wouldn't be if I didn't have to be," Crowley rolled his eyes and his camel made a disgruntled noise, which made Crowley look at it with distrust. "It's business. Hell stuff."

"So you're on a mission?" Aziraphale asked, eyes widening in horror.

Crowley looked down at him, wrinkling his nose at the ridiculous sight of the angel riding the too-small donkey. "I can't take you seriously on that thing."

"Crowley, what do they want you to do? Surely you know that I must stop you. This is a very important event and it can't go wrong!"

"Well, I was told the same thing!" Crowley demanded.

Aziraphale straightened his shoulders, which made him look even more ridiculous. "Your side doesn't have a chance of winning this time. Trust me. It's…one of those ineffable things."

"Oh, here we go again," Crowley muttered, rolling his eyes. "Well what do you expect me to do? Pop in to Jerusalem, have a glass of wine and some figs, and then leave?"

"You shouldn't go to Jerusalem, or anywhere nearby," Aziraphale said sincerely. "The angelic forces are everywhere, even Gabriel, and he rarely comes to earth. It would practically be suicide! I'm just doing you a favor."

Crowley watched him for a moment, trying to read the angel. Really, he would love to take the Aziraphale's advice and hightail it somewhere else, but he felt there was something more to this.

"All they told me was that I was to escort these men to Jerusalem," Crowley told Aziraphale finally. "That's it."

"Oh," Aziraphale said, his face scrunching up in thought. "Hm."

Crowley narrowed his eyes at him. "Wot? What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," Aziraphale said quickly.

"Angel," Crowley coaxed.

Aziraphale bit his lip, glancing at the men ahead of them before he turned to Crowley and said in a hushed voice. "Well, it's just that, I was supposed to do the same thing."

Crowley pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking about the implications. "Bit funny, isn't it? Both of us having the same mission?"

"I told you. It's ineffable," Aziraphale said decidedly and urged his donkey forward as if that was the end of it.

Crowley, however, was not so sure it was that cut and dried. He had a feeling something wasn't quite right about all of this and he was determined to figure it out, even if the angel wasn't going to help.

* * *

_Aziraphale had been_ surprised to say the least to see that Crowley had shown up, and a bit wary that he had been ordered to escort the Wise Men as well. What duty could they have that made an angel and a demon show up in the same place? Aziraphale felt even more protective of his charges, wondering what purpose they could serve Hell.

But his star was still shining brightly, and Jerusalem was on the horizon. Aziraphale had done what he had been told to do, now they were supposed to be able to make their way toward the baby Jesus and presumably pay their respects with gifts.

"That's all for you then?" Crowley asked, urging his camel up beside Aziraphale's small donkey.

"Not quite, still have a bit of guiding to do," Aziraphale said, slightly wary. "Though, I still wish I knew why we were both supposed to be here."

Crowley shrugged. "Beats me. Just gonna tag along with them to see King Harod now."

"Wait, you're taking them to Harod?" Aziraphale asked, frowning.

Crowley frowned back. "Yeah. Was told to. Why?"

Aziraphale shook his head, not even knowing why he had a bad feeling about this. "Oh, no reason. Just curious. Er…do be careful to avoid any angels that might be around. They're not all as lenient as me."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Don't need to tell me that. Well, see you around, I guess."

"Yes, I suppose," Aziraphale said as he watched Crowley urge his camel on to catch up with the Wise Men, cursing at the beast as it groaned a complaint.

The star was fading with the dawn and Aziraphale couldn't help but feel that a little of the relief, the good will, in the world, had dissipated. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling he should have stopped Crowley from taking the Wise Men to Harod.

* * *

_Crowley escorted the_ Wise Men to the palace, and then hung around, more out of curiosity than anything. He still had no idea why these three were apparently so important, and Aziraphale's reaction had made him even more confused. It wasn't really like Hell to care about three men bringing gifts to a baby anyway, so what could this all be about?

He hung at the back of the hall as the Wise Men presented themselves to the king, and explained what they were doing here.

"I have heard many stirrings about a prophecy coming true since you have come to the city," Harod said, glancing toward one of his advisors with a look that made Crowley straighten.

"Yes, sire, about a king being born!" exclaimed one of the Wise Men.

"And where is this king?" Harod asked.

"We followed the star here but thought that someone would know where the king is. So far, news has not spread into the city, however."

Harod seemed to contemplate something for a long moment before he replied. "Once you have found him, let me know where he is so that I may bring gifts to him as well."

"Of course, sire!" The Wise Men bowed and left the room.

Crowley watched them go, but hung around, having a feeling he should hear what Harod had to say.

The king turned to his advisor. "This prophesied king…what is all that about?"

"Well, sire, there is a prophecy among the locals that a deliverer of the people will be born and become king of Israel. But…"

"But what?" Harod demanded.

The advisor hesitated. "Well, it's just tradition, sire. Nothing will come of it."

"Tradition or not, if the people believe, that's dangerous in itself." Harod shook his head. "No, I can take no chances. We have to nip this in the bud now before it grows out of hand. When those scholars find out where this supposed baby king is, I want the child dealt with. And if we can't find him, we'll deal with any other children who could possibly be him in the same way."

The advisor paled slightly but nodded. "O-Of course, sire."

Crowley fell back into the shadows, pale himself. So that was the game at play. He'd been told to bring the Wise Men to Harod so the king would find out about the baby and…what, _kill him?_

Ineffable or not, Crowley didn't condone killing kids. Never had. Now he just had to figure out how to make sure that didn't happen.

A shadow appeared beside him and materialized into a shape.

"Hello, Crowley."

Crowley jumped slightly, startled as he spun around to see Hastur looming at him.

"Hastur, hey mate," he said, swallowing hard. "What are you doing here?"

"Just making sure you're doing your job," Hastur said darkly. "The Wise Men delivered their message to the king?"

"Yep, they did do that," Crowley said. "And now they're off to whatever they're supposed to be doing."

"They're finding the baby to report to the king," Hastur said, a twisted leer beginning to spread over his face. "And once the king learns of his location, he'll have him killed."

Crowley nodded jerkily. "Yep, mm-hm, sounds good. I thought I would just stick around a little longer to make sure everything goes smoothly. You know, in case anything happens."

Hastur glared at him for a long moment and Crowley started to fight the urge to squirm under the demon's gaze, but the other demon snorted and shook his head. "Fine. Report back to home office when the mission is complete."

"Will do," Crowley said and let out a sigh of relief as Hastur faded back into the shadows.

The relief was short lived, however, because as soon as the demon left he began to panic. Something about all of this was very bad, he felt it in his bones. He might already have fallen, but he couldn't help but feel like he would be permanently damned if he let this happen.

And, you know, he couldn't have a baby's death on his head. He might be a demon, but he had standards.

There was only one person he knew could help him right now. If he couldn't do anything personally, then he was just going to have to tip off an angel so that _he_ could do it.

Crowley rushed out of the palace, hoping Aziraphale hadn't left the city yet.

* * *

_Aziraphale was watching_ the scene unfold with a soft smile. It really was a lovely picture. Mary and Joseph in the small cottage with baby Jesus all wrapped up safely in the little bed they had made for him. People were coming from all around, to give gifts, thanks to Aziraphale's star that was now in the sky above Bethlehem, directing people to pay homage.

The Wise Men came as well and greeted Aziraphale with a smile as they lay gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, gifts definitely befitting a future king, giving words of blessing to Mary.

The figure in the dark robes appeared at Aziraphale's shoulder and nearly startled him.

"Angel!"

"Wha—_Crowley_, you should not be here!" Aziraphale hissed, half frightened at the thought of Crowley being seen by the other angels and half at the thought of being seen with Crowley. He looked around as if half expecting a whole flight of seraphim to swoop down and smite the demon.

"Trust me, I wouldn't have come if it wasn't urgent," Crowley replied, eyes also darting around worriedly. "But I need to tell you something."

Aziraphale pressed his lips together and pulled Crowley around the side of the cottage, standing close in an attempt to hide him with the light of his halo.

"What is it, then?" he demanded.

Crowley looked stricken and it stopped Aziraphale for a moment but before he had time to process, Crowley blurted out, "Harod wants to kill the baby!"

"_What?!"_ Aziraphale nearly squeaked.

"Turns out, Hell wanted me to lead the Wise Men to him so they could tell him about the prophecy and he could make sure they led him right to the baby. He asked them to tell him where he was so he could pay his respects, but he really just wants to know so he can kill him!"

"But…that…that can't happen!" Aziraphale stuttered. "We have to stop them! They would be unwitting accomplices in something world-breakingly terrible!"

"Well then go, angel!" Crowley urged, shoving him aside.

Aziraphale hurried back to the cottage but didn't see the Wise Men anywhere. He just barely stopped himself from saying an oath, and hurried back to Crowley.

"They've already left!" he said.

Crowley ran his hands over his face. "It's at least a days' journey back to Jerusalem. We still have time. Well, you do. I can't afford to be involved. Hastur might be watching."

"I must tell Gabriel, he'll know what to do," Aziraphale said. "Just stay low and keep an eye on the Wise Men. See if you can figure out where they've gone. But if any angels show up, _please_ get away as fast as you can. They will kill you."

"Don't need to tell me twice," Crowley said and hurried off.

Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment to locate Gabriel then made his way in that direction, showing up where the archangel was standing off to one side of a field, watching a group of shepherds at work. He looked up with some surprise and a little displeasure to see Aziraphale there.

"Aziraphale, you are meant to be watching over the child. What are you doing here?"

"Gabriel, there is a plot afoot! King Harod has told the Wise Men to let him know where the baby is so he can have him killed!"

Gabriel looked at him blandly. "Aziraphale, this plan is ineffable, that will not happen."

"Yes, but…" Aziraphale stuttered. "What if it _does?"_

Gabriel narrowed his brow. "Aziraphale really, you must not work yourself up so much about things. If you do your job, no harm with come to the child, and everything will go as planned."

"But shouldn't you try to stop them anyway?" Aziraphale asked.

"I don't have time for that, I have to spread the news, it's my job as a messenger of God," Gabriel said, straightening his shoulders. "Go back to your post, Aziraphale."

The lesser angel raised a finger and opened his mouth in protest, but Gabriel spread his wings and was gone. Aziraphale stared at the spot he had been standing before he sighed.

"Oh bother," he muttered. "I suppose I'll have to handle this myself then."

He spread his own wings and flew back to the cottage.

There were still many people bringing gifts, and there were enough angels around nearby that Aziraphale felt it would be okay to leave.

Besides, he would do more good where he was going.

It wasn't hard to pick out Crowley when you knew where to look for him. Honestly, Aziraphale was shocked none of the other angels had found him yet. But he supposed, like Gabriel, they were too busy with their duties to look at anything but a genuine attack.

At least Crowley had found the Wise Men. Aziraphale found the demon sitting outside their camp, watching them from afar.

He glanced up, looking almost relieved when Aziraphale showed up.

"Well?" he asked.

Aziraphale shook his head. "Gabriel said not to worry but…"

"Well, of course you should worry," Crowley said. "_I'm_ worried!"

"I mean, it can't be part of the plan," Aziraphale blurted out. "That would make no sense!"

"Of course not," Crowley agreed. "So, what do we do?"

"Tell them not to tell Harod anything," Aziraphale said decidedly. "I'm sure they would understand then."

"What, like this?" Crowley demanded, motioning to Aziraphale's human disguise. "They met you once, why do you think they would believe you when you didn't mention anything about this before?"

"Don't be silly," Aziraphale said, a little put out. "I'm going to come to them as an angel. Gabriel's been doing it all over the place. They would be sure to listen then."

Crowley pursed his lips. "Well, probably, but…wait, now?"

There was no time to waste and Aziraphale squared his shoulders as he turned toward the camp. He allowed his true angelic form to shine through his human disguise and unfurled his wings so that they glittered, pearly white and blinding in the coming night.

Crowley cringed away with a grunt as Aziraphale stepped into the camp.

The Wise Men had been getting ready to sleep, when they turned in awe to the figure who had appeared.

"Oh my," one said, seeming at a loss to say anything else.

"Is that…?"

"I'm an angel of the Lord," Aziraphale told them as they stared at him in awe, shielding their eyes against his brightness. Slightly embarrassed, he reigned in the holy light—it had been a while since he'd been in anything but his human form. Perhaps he had overdone it a little.

"I come with an urgent message," he told them. "You must not return to Jerusalem and King Harod. He only wanted to know of the baby because he has plans to kill him and everyone involved with him and his birth. Anyone who believes he is the prophesied savior."

The Wise Men were looking at each other in horror.

"You would do best to leave the country and return home," Aziraphale told them. "Before Harod finds out and comes after you too."

"But what about the child?" one asked.

"The child will be protected." Aziraphale hoped. "You must take care of yourselves right now. I would leave before dawn if I were you."

And then he spread his wings and vanished. Or, really, he reappeared next to Crowley who was waiting anxiously.

"Well?" he asked.

"They'll go," Aziraphale said. "They don't want to cause trouble. Unfortunately, when they don't return, Harod will just send more men out to find Mary and Joseph and the baby. We have to get them out of here."

"Hold on a minute…_we?_" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow.

Aziraphale became slightly indignant. "You're the one who came to me about this, which I'm grateful for, but you want to just leave now?"

"I came to you because I _can't_ help without Hell finding out, which would be very bad for me. Now, you can get a whole bunch of angels in here to fly the baby and company off to parts unknown."

Aziraphale pressed his lips together. "Actually, I'm not sure I can. With Gabriel not paying any attention to what I'm saying, I don't know if we can risk waiting until Heaven figures out exactly what to do."

"There's that 'we' again," Crowley muttered.

Aziraphale glared. "Now _I_ need _your_ help. At least to run interference with any other demons who show up, while I go and warn Mary and Joseph about the situation."

Crowley sighed deeply and rubbed his face. "Fine. I can probably at least try to keep Hastur off your tail, but you won't have long."

Aziraphale felt relieved at that. "Thank you! I won't need long, once everything begins to heat up, the other angels will realize that I was right." He glanced off at the starry sky, silent for a long moment.

"You know it kind of reminds me of Egypt," Crowley mused. "Evil ruler killing kids…"

Aziraphale looked at him in surprise. "You were in Egypt?"

Crowley narrowed his brow. "Course. Wasn't everybody at that point?"

Aziraphale shrugged. "That is true. Moses had a big role."

"As big as this baby?" Crowley asked.

"Oh, no, I don't think so. None have as big a role as this baby," Aziraphale said.

"Well then I suppose you had better be off saving him then," Crowley said.

"Yes," Aziraphale said, getting himself back on track. "Funny thought really. When he's meant to save, well, everyone."

Crowley's eyes widened and Aziraphale realized he had said too much to a demon and cleared his throat. "Best be off then. Keep an eye out for demons?"

"Keep an eye out for angels?" Crowley returned as they hurried off back toward the cottage that was silent now in the night.

They were almost to the cottage when Crowley stopped suddenly. He held up a hand to Aziraphale.

"Hold on, I'll catch up, just go ahead," he said.

Aziraphale hesitated. "What is it?"

"Just go, angel," Crowley hissed.

Aziraphale went.

He took on his angelic form again and appeared in the cottage. Mary and Joseph started awake and he held up a hand.

"Don't be alarmed," he said folding his wings demurely. "I come with a message. You must flee Israel, best go somewhere else—Egypt would be good. Somewhere far away from here."

"But why?" Joseph asked.

"Harod would kill the child," Aziraphale said. "The only way to save him is to go. Now."

They began to pack their things and Aziraphale looked around anxiously. Wondering where Crowley was and, more importantly, where all the other angels were to help him?

* * *

_As soon as Aziraphale_ hurried off to do his Messenger of God thing, Hastur appeared from the darkness, though this time Crowley was ready for him.

"Crowley," Hastur said, his name always sounding like an accusation in the other demon's mouth.

"Hastur, why are you still here?" Crowley asked darkly.

Hastur grinned unpleasantly. "I could ask the same of you, Crowley. Especially since the Wise Men who you were supposed to take to King Harod have taken it upon themselves to get out of the country as soon as possible."

"I took them to Harod," Crowley protested.

"Yes, but they had a message to deliver to him, didn't they?" Hastur reminded him. "Something about where the child was?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, there was that," Crowley said, feeling sweat break out on the back of his neck despite the cool night. "Forgot about that."

Hastur snorted. "Well, no matter. You can relay the message yourself now. Make up for losing the Wise Men."

"Well, you see, I was trying not to, but there's this pesky angel around who keeps showing up and thwarting me."

"And you haven't plucked his wings and roasted him in hellfire?" Hastur asked, genuinely confused.

"Here with all these angels flying around?" Crowley protested. "It would be a deathwish! I've been trying my best to avoid him completely!"

Hastur growled. "Well, you just call me next time he shows up. I'd enjoy dipping his wings in hellfire."

"I bet you would," Crowley muttered, then, "Well, thanks for the check in, but I really need to be going. More plots afoot that I need to cause." He made to leave, but Hastur snagged his arm, keeping him there.

"Not so fast, Crowley. The only thing you have to do is complete Hell's orders. You are going back to Jerusalem to tell King Harod all about where the baby is hiding."

"Sure, yeah, er, about that. I'll definitely get on it…"

Crowley was flailing, and he knew it. He wasn't sure how he was going to get out of this unless he just did as he was told but told Harod the baby was in the wrong place. Maybe he could say the new family had gone off to Greece or something.

Hastur's grip on him tightened. "Now, Crowley. Or I'll drag you there myself."

"Halt, foul fiends!"

Crowley looked up to see Aziraphale striding toward them with his halo glowing horrifically bright and his wings flared in a defensive stance. Crowley had to shield his eyes and he heard Hastur hiss in pain.

"See, I told you!" Crowley grunted.

"Begone!" Aziraphale shouted, thrusting a hand forward and summoning power to smite.

If Crowley suffered from human functions, he would have wet himself in terror.

Hastur, stupidly, didn't seem impressed. He sneered instead. "I'll show the little halo. They all talk big but he doesn't even have a sword."

"Okay, have fun with that," Crowley said and almost eagerly shoved Hastur toward Aziraphale who was looking like he had run out of whatever plan he'd had already.

"Oh, no, we're taking him together, Crowley. You can't run away every time," Hastur said and pulled out a nasty blade which he held and strode forward all too bravely toward Aziraphale.

Crowley had no choice but to follow, praying—well, okay, no, he wasn't praying, just _hoping_—that Aziraphale had more of a plan than he had already shown.

"Er," the angel went, making Crowley want to smack himself in the face.

So he did something really stupid. He rushed forward, past Hastur, and made to tackle the angel. "I got him, Hastur!" he called and lunged.

Aziraphale, startled, let out a small noise of protest before Crowley slammed into him and sent them both tumbling to the ground, rolling down a small incline, Aziraphale's wings flying around and getting sand in them. Crowley winced apologetically, but threw a terrible punch at the angel's face, which, obviously he had no trouble dodging.

"Look like you're fighting back!" Crowley hissed.

"Er, right," Aziraphale said, flipping himself over and bringing one of his wings around to tap Crowley in the head. He barely scraped him but Crowley flung himself backwards dramatically and lay on the ground as if unconscious.

Unfortunately, that had given Hastur enough time to prepare and he lunged at Aziraphale for real, swiping at the angel with the dagger.

Aziraphale whipped around but the dagger sliced him across the side, staining the white robes he was wearing with red. Aziraphale gasped in shock and pain, staggering slightly.

Hastur chuckled. "Little angel, go back home to Heaven—or I'll take you to Hell."

Aziraphale dodged another swipe but the next one sliced off several feathers.

"Oh dear!" Aziraphale moaned. "Now it will take forever for those to grow in fully again!"

Crowley searched for something, anything that he could toss to Aziraphale for a weapon. There were plenty of rocks, and he would start throwing them himself if he had any way of making sure Hastur didn't know it was him. He might anyway, just for kicks.

However, before he could come up with a plan, the whole sky lit up and Crowley looked up in horror to see an entire flight of angels descending and forming a circle around the cottage, others behind Aziraphale, swords in hand.

Crowley slid backwards as quickly as he could and hid under some rocks, praying—actually this time, to whoever wanted to listen—that the angels would simply ignore his existence.

Hastur took the cue as well, and melted into the dirt, descending to Hell and far away.

"Oh, thank goodness," Aziraphale said, wearily, putting a hand to his side. "There are indeed plots afoot!"

"Yes, we see that now," one of the angels said. "Good work, Principality Aziraphale. You have stopped the demons and protected the child."

Aziraphale smiled slightly. "Yes, well, now we must get them out of the country before Harod sends his own men out looking for them."

"It's already been arranged," the angel said. "You may rest and heal your wounds now. We shall see to the rest."

"Oh, yes, all right…"

Crowley watched as the other angels left to escort Mary, Joseph and the baby out of the cottage and whisked them away. Aziraphale was left standing there watching, looking a little put out.

Once he was sure all the angels were gone, Crowley crawled out from his hiding place and went to stand next to Aziraphale.

"Well, that's that, I suppose," he said.

"Yes," Aziraphale said with a small sigh, and a wince. "I suppose it is."

Crowley looked down at his side and saw the blood spreading further under his hand. "Er…is that bad?"

Aziraphale shifted his hand slightly. "It stings a bit," he admitted.

Crowley stood awkwardly for a moment then said, "You want me to look at it?"

Aziraphale glanced at him with surprise. "Oh, it's not necessary, really."

"You're bleeding everywhere, angel," Crowley stated blandly.

Aziraphale sighed. "Yes, all right, it does hurt quite a bit. A blade from Hell does leave its mark on an angel."

Crowley pursed his lips. "Best let me see to it then. Wouldn't want it to get worse."

Aziraphale nodded looking tired, and trudged a few steps to take a grateful seat on a rock. Crowley hoped there were no other angels or demons around to see this, as he knelt to tend to the angel.

* * *

_Aziraphale was slightly_ dubious about allowing Crowley to help him tend his injury, but the demon had been kind to offer, and really, he would probably do all right with knowing about wounds caused by demonic blades.

"It's pretty nasty," the demon said with a wince as he peeled the tears in Aziraphale's robes further apart to see the wound scored into his soft flesh.

Aziraphale hissed as Crowley applied a wet rag to clean it. "It feels pretty nasty."

Crowley cleaned it and then put his hand over the wound. Aziraphale felt a slight tingle as the wound started to close. He jerked away, shocked.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Relax, I'm just helping it along," Crowley told him. "Perk of being a demon is that I can heal wounds caused by demonic blades. Even on an angel. At least enough so that you'll stop bleeding everywhere."

"Oh," Aziraphale said, slightly embarrassed by his reaction. "Thank you."

Crowley rolled his eyes and continued the healing a little more before he stepped back. "That's all I can do."

Aziraphale looked down and saw a pink scar scored across his side, but Crowley had been right, it wasn't bleeding anymore, and was only slightly sore instead of being just really painful. He waved his hand over his robes and they repaired themselves.

"How is your wing?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale shifted his currently invisible wings to the physical plane and sighed at the state of them.

"Oh bother," he said. "It's not injured, but they're both just incredibly messy. You really brought me down hard."

Crowley cringed. "Er, yeah, sorry about that. Can I…help?" He shrugged awkwardly.

Aziraphale was loth to allow a demon to touch his wings and yet…well, he couldn't do any of this himself. And they were such a mess…

He sighed. "You really shouldn't trouble yourself, but I would appreciate it."

Crowley tentatively moved behind him and started making sense of his feathers, picking out the sand and gravel almost meticulously. Aziraphale was actually surprised; he wasn't sure his wings had ever been put into such good order. He hadn't exactly expected demons to be very thorough with wing grooming, but maybe they were a bit more vain than angels.

"Thank you again," Aziraphale said as he stood upon finishing.

"What will you do now?" Crowley asked.

"Well, I thought I would pop over to Egypt. You know, see that everything is all right."

Crowley nodded. "Mind if I join you?"

Again, Aziraphale was surprised, and slightly suspicious, but there would be many angels around, so if Crowley meant any harm, he wouldn't get far.

They took off and made it to Egypt as the last stars were fading from the sky. They stood on a hill overlooking the small house that Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus had been interred in by the angels, far away from anyone who knew their names or who knew anything about the prophecies.

"So, what now?" Crowley asked.

"Well, I'll be staying here for a while I think," Aziraphale said. "Keeping an eye on him with the other angels. There will be lots to do." He glanced at the demon. "And you?"

Crowley shrugged. "Eh, got to go back to Hell, see what my next orders are. Hastur probably told everyone I was dead. Kind of wish I could keep that ruse up for a while, but I need something to do."

"Yes, quite," Aziraphale said. "Er…thanks for helping me with this. Without your warning…"

"Don't mention it," Crowley said, and glanced meaningfully at him. "Seriously, don't. They'd kill me if they found out."

Aziraphale swallowed hard and nodded. "Don't worry. I won't mention it to anyone. Our secret."

Crowley grunted, then looked up at the sky and the sun dawning in the East. "Well, I best be off. Good luck with all the prophecy stuff. Hope it all turns out right."

"It will," Aziraphale said with a small smile. "It's ineffable."

Crowley rolled his eyes, but reached out and shook the angel's hand congenially. "See you around?"

"Oh, I'm sure we will," Aziraphale said.

Crowley started walking across the desert then and Aziraphale turned back to the house. Through the window he could see Mary cradling baby Jesus in her arms, rocking him gently. Aziraphale smiled and glanced up at the stars again.

Yes, many big things were in store for that little baby. He decided he looked forward to seeing them.


End file.
